To Make You Happy
by HappyDappyDrunk
Summary: He knew there were so many things Susan Lupin deserved, and how he had failed to bring her each of them.


A/N:

This is probably one of my first 'to be taken seriously' fics. I don't do it often, but ever now and then when I need to really write, I might just do a serious fanfic. This one happens to be a small moment in time with Remus and his mother. Mrs. Lupin is someone I think I'd like, though not in the way I like Mrs. Weasley. At least, I enjoy writing about her.

A not so thanks to Katrina, who... well... didn't really beta this... but she saw it first! I lurv you, dear. You know I do. :D

Cheers,

H.D.D.

---

"I'm not getting any younger."

Glancing up from the Daily Prophet, Remus caught sight of the older woman sitting on the living room divan. Her familiar face, once young and smooth, was hardened with age. In her hands, she firmly clutched a chipped mug, as if she feared to drop it. He studied her as the sun light leaked through the sheer curtains, hitting the few tawny strands on her head, not yet touched with streaks of white. Her strong chin tilt upward with conscious pride.

He gave her a gentle smile, shaking his head slightly. "None of us are, mum."

Mrs. Lupin frowned, eyes squinting at the floor. A small sigh slipped out and her shoulders dropped. "It's so hard to believe, even now. ...You're all grown up and your father is gone..."

Remus's heart constricted at her words. He folded the paper, setting it aside and reaching for her. He lay his hand on hers. "I'm still here, though."

"That you are, dear," she said, offering him a tight smile, "and I'm grateful for that."

He could hear the disappointment in her voice, as meager as it was. He knew she had been happy with her life, but there was the need for more, things he had always wanted to give her, but never could. He could never give her grandchildren. He could never bring his father back. He could never repay her for the years and money spent caring for him. There were so many things he could not give her, no matter how much he ached to. He knew there were so many things Susan Lupin deserved, and how he had failed to bring her each of them.

"I never thought in all my years that I'd outlive John," she whispered, voice tight, rough, and uneasy. She quickly took the last sip of tea from her mug.

"I know," Remus said, swallowing hard. His throat felt sore and constrained, and he felt the urge to look away. Look at the floor, his shoes, the lamp standing in the corner. Look at anything other than his mother's ocean eyes, brimming with tears, and her face, blank with an aching sadness. His gaze finally rested on a picture on the mantle. The picture of a happy family with a mother and a father and a little boy, who looked far too pale for boys his age.

"I'll go make some more tea, shall I?" his mother asked, standing up on creaking joints. She walked to the kitchen, discreetly wiping at her eyes.

After a moment, Remus stood, following her through the double doors that whined on their hinges. He found her at the sink, filling the slightly rusted kettle. A smile settled across his features, and he met her half-way to the stove, taking the kettle from her and setting it on a burner.

"Remus, wha-" She was cut off as he wrapped his arms around her shrunken frame, pulling her protectively towards his chest. Something cool and thin pressed against her palm, and she looked down to discover his wand resting in her hand. "But you know I can't do magic-"

"Shh," he willed her softly, his hand covering hers.

"But dear..."

The wand began to hum in her hand, gently vibrating. From the end to the tip, it warmed, sending out a shimmering strand of light. The ribbon twirled in the air, gliding across the kitchen, and Susan felt a gasp escape her lips as she marveled at the simple spectacle. It glittered with reds, greens, and blues, dancing in front of her. She felt the urge to reach out and touch it, but as she did, the light darted down towards the kettle, slipping through the spout and bringing it to life. It whistled loudly, steam billowing out.

Pulling himself away, Remus silenced the kettle, grabbing his mother's mug, which held a small tea bag, and filled it with the boiling water. As it cooled, he handed it to her with an encouraging smile. She took it in one hand, still staring helplessly into the air. After a moment, she looked down at the wand, studying it for a moment before reluctantly giving it back to her son.

"Thank you," she finally said, taking a sip of her tea and not caring if it burned her tongue.

Remus nodded, watching the floor and chewing at his lower lip. Finally, he looked back up at her. "I-I only want to make you happy."

Her face softened and she smiled, cupping his face with one hand. "But you do, Remus, you do."


End file.
